About how we can maximize our shirtless horse-riding potential.
And here’s where we’ll do it…
At Ariana, a vodka-soaked Russian spot from a six-time Russian-Grammy winner. (As in, she won six
Russian Grammys. Not a Grammy winner who is Russian.)
Anyway: it’s taking reservations for tomorrow night and beyond. Use it like so…
Pre- or post-whatever drinks.
In case you haven’t noticed, vodka is mounting a furious comeback. They barrel-age the stuff
here. They put frozen caviar lollipops in it. It gets crazy. Bring a date and marble-bar it up.
Bending opponents to your will.
There’s a small, curtained-off area with just a
couple tables and a private-stock liquor cabinet. It’s called the Cognac Room. It’s just you, the poor
bastard you’ve brought along (we’re looking at you, Vlad), a lot of silence and the occasional Russian
guy poking his head in to make sure everything’s cool. Think about it.
The last-minute Valentine’s Day freak-out.
No way this applies to you. You’d never
be caught figuring out plans this late in the game. But… just know that there’s a skylighted stunner of
a dining room tucked behind the bar. They’re doing foie gras éclairs. They’re doing the most opulent pickle plates this side of the Volga. And
they’re doing something called Velvet Borscht.
